Colorless Angel
by holytaxaccountant
Summary: Castiel decides to take a break from everything. Cas/OC


**Title: **Colorless Angel  
**Summary: **Castiel decides that he needs a break. Cas/OC  
**Setting: **Sixth season  
**Rating: **T - for now.  
**Notes: **Feedback is always apprieciated. That's all I have to say.

* * *

**Chapter One.**

Castiel had this dimming hope that things would get better. Not just with Heaven, but things on Earth in general. It seemed that every time the Winchesters had a break, they were pulled back in with something a little more terrifying then their last encounter.

This time it had been Sam having no soul.

It had been days since Castiel shoved his hand in Sam's chest to check something that wasn't there and he still had the unmistakable fear that the Winchesters might not get through this situation. It wasn't that the Winchesters didn't have any leads, it was the fact that Castiel felt that Sam didn't want his soul back. Castiel had faith, before, that Sam would stumble back into what he was before. It had been Lucifer, Lucifer did such damage on Sam that Castiel also had doubt that Sam would ever turn into anything normal (if there was anything normal about the pair).

It wasn't Sam that Castiel was only worried about. It was Dean, as well. The profound bond that they shared made Castiel a little more worried about the eldest Winchester. Dean seemed to want Castiel on Earth with him at all times. Dean was freaking out, his words not Castiel's, about Sam. No matter how many times Castiel told him that Heaven was his top priority, Dean would raise his voice and tell Castiel that there were a little more important things on Earth. Castiel couldn't understand what was more important when his home was in danger. Dean had gotten so angry those past few days that Castiel was sure he was going to explode, in quite literal terms.

Not only were the Winchesters on his list to fret about, Crowley was on top too. He was the leader of Hell now, so to speak, and that concerned Castiel more than it should have. Crowley was not a demon to be messed with; he had been King of the Crossroads before he turned King of Hell. Castiel had the underlying feeling that since Heaven was in turmoil, Crowley might take that as an opportunity.

It was these events that gave Castiel his first taste at a human headache, as much of a headache that Angels could get. It was also all these proceedings that led Castiel to stepping back and 'running away' from his problems. He didn't know what he was going to come across as he did so, but for once Castiel didn't care. He didn't think that coming to Earth and protecting what he should have was going to cause problems for an Angel like him. He learned, though, that he couldn't expect the most normal things to happen, because they never did.

* * *

"Cas, where the hell have you been?" It was the tones that Dean used that made Castiel think that Dean was angry with him. No, it didn't make him think, he _knew _that Dean was angry with him.

"I have been in Heaven," the impassive look that was stationed on Castiel's face just seemed to push Dean a little further. The two men were nearly touching nose to nose. It was odd to Castiel that just the other day Dean was informing that personal space was something that everyone needed and here he was, violating that rule.

Sam lingered in the back corner of the dingy hotel room, his eyes on the two as he looked slightly confused. Castiel knew that Sam didn't know what to think here, whether he should get in between the two or let them have it out. His arms were crossed over his chest and his dark eyes narrowed as he watched the scene play out in front of him.

"Heaven? _Heaven?_" Dean barked. Castiel was sure he could see the veins popping out of his neck but he kept his eyes staged with Dean's. Dean's expression calmed a little, knowing that it was no good to yell at Castiel, of all people. Dean fell back onto the bed, his head in his hands. He looked tired, worn and just plain fed up with everything. Sam's shoulders slumped but he didn't move from his post in the corner. The tension was high in the air before Dean spoke, "Cas, we need you down here."

Castiel stood there for a moment, his face blank from emotion. He looked at Dean, glanced at Sam before speaking in the low rumbling voice he held, "I cannot be here when my home is in danger," he calmly said, his chin raised a little.

Dean looked up at him, his green eyes hard, "How screwed up is Heaven, really?" he questioned, his hands dropping to his knees.

Castiel paused for a second before slowly letting his words slip through his lips, "It's pretty… screwed up," Castiel answered, he drew out the human expression like it was a new kind of food he was tasting. He was unsure if he used it correctly.

Dean's head fell forward. He was staring at the carpet, defeated, "Can't you take a little break? Have you not realized that Sam has _no_ soul?" he asked, raising his head once more and pointed to his brother behind him. Sam's arms were folded and his face took the same expression that Castiel's held. Sam felt nothing, he would show nothing.

Castiel casted a look in the direction of the youngest Winchester before fixing his gaze on Dean again, "I can't just push my homeland aside, Dean, for what you want," Castiel spoke with a hard edge in his voice, furrowing the brow of his vessel and giving Dean some kind of look. It was unreadable, just like everything Castiel did was.

Dean sat there for a moment in complete silence. And it was _complete _silence, breathing was hardly being heard. Castiel, for a moment, was sure that Dean had stopped inhalation but he watched as his chest rose up and down.

"Dean," Castiel started out before Dean raised his hand, signaling the Angel to stop all conversation for a moment. Castiel didn't take that, he strived on, "I want to help you but there isn't anything I can do," he stated, his voice clearer then it had been before. Dean looked up, an eyebrow quirked at the statement.

"You can help by trying to help us find his soul," It was all coming back to Sam's soul. Castiel knew that how bad the situation was but he didn't see what he could do. Crowley had it, Crowley was the King of Hell now – Castiel hadn't the power to wrestle with such a person.

"I think," Castiel paused for a second in his sentence, choosing his words carefully for a moment, "I should go."

Dean's eyes whipped toward Castiel, it was like a fire was dancing behind those green eyes, "You're not leaving again, Cas!" he stood up, a few feet away from him. Castiel saw the desperation in Dean's eyes but he didn't acknowledge that in his next statement.

"I believe we should be away from each other for a while," he said, his voice back to that rough state from before. Dean jerked his eyebrow up again, alarmed by Castiel's words.

"Excuse me?"

Castiel sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little. His body was still rigid, "I believe we should take a break, from each other – in your terms if that is easier for you to understand. You are obviously depending on me now, Dean." Castiel tilted his chin up again, looking Dean straight in the eye. Dean blinked, screwing his face up into an expression of pure puzzlement.

He shook his head, pushing aside the comment that the Angel made, "I'm depending on you? We're not teenagers in high school, Cas. All I'm asking is your help."

"Which I cannot give you in this situation," Castiel answered, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the man in front of him, "It is important, as of now, you seek help where you can get it, Dean. This departure of the both of us is needed."

"What? Are you breaking up with me?" Dean asked, rolling his eyes at the Angel's use of the English language, "How can I take this break from you when I hardly see you as it is? You don't come when we call for you, we don't answer when you are needed. How the hell can we be away from you now if you are never here?" he was getting fed up with Castiel as of that moment.

Castiel stood there for a moment, his hands now gripped into fists by his side. He was eye-level with Dean and the men just stared at each other until Castiel let out a sigh, "I must go." He didn't even give Dean a time of protest before the whooshing of air filled the room and Dean was standing there, staring at a complete empty spot.

A minute of silence passed before Dean finally yelled, "Sonofabitch!" to the unfilled space.

* * *

Castiel roamed as much of Earth as he could in three hours. He didn't know what he was doing but he knew, honestly, that he didn't want to face his problems in Heaven and he didn't want to face the rage of Dean again. He couldn't understand why there was so much pent up anger within one human body. He was afraid that Dean was going to hurt himself with all that anger.

His expedition allowed him to think, which Castiel hardly did nowadays. Heaven was in a disordered state, ruined from the post-Apocalypse. Earth was the same way. There was no serenity, or peace, where he could just… be. Castiel didn't necessarily want that, but he didn't want chaos every where he turned. It overpowered him and left his own mind into a crumbled mess of dust. It was _exhausting._

It was cold for the month of October, not that Castiel could feel it or anything. It was especially cold up in northern Chicago, where Castiel found himself that afternoon. Even in Chicago, he walked away randomly with no place to go. Was he really going to stay away from Heaven for a time being? Probably not.

He passed shops and people passed him without another glance at the man. His steps were slow and sluggish, as if he were unsure about the sights around him. To be honest, Castiel was. He didn't know what the shops were and he didn't know what the buildings held. He felt out of place as he did in every town.

He eventually passed the busy streets, coming up into the quieter parts of the town. The neighborhoods weren't packed as he had heard stories of these large cities. The quaint houses lined the blocks up and down. He walked along the sidewalks, his eyes on the homes. He watched the architecture; he noticed the nice cut green lawns. It was as if nothing was disturbing the city. He wrinkled his eyebrows together, shaking his head as he continued upon his journey.

He inched closer to an open green space. He slowed his pace, looking at it. It was filled with children. They were swinging in the air on some contraption. They chased each other across the green territory. Some were climbing across bars and giggling with their parents that watched them. His stride eventually stopped as he stood there, observing. Were there humans really out there that seemed to not have a care in the world? His blue eyes scanned over the crowds of small kids. It seemed that way.

He didn't know how long he was positioned there, just staring at them. He didn't really think much about it until he heard a voice say, "You look like a pedophile standing there, you know." He looked around for a second, wondering where the voice came from. He turned to his right, seeing nothing there but an empty bench. A snicker came from his left and he swiveled his head toward the general direction.

A petite dirty blonde sat on the bench next to him, looking up at him. She was grinning slightly, as if she were sharing her own joke with herself. Her legs were crossed and a bag sat next to her. He cleared his throat, glancing around almost a little warily. She laughed again. "I don't think some of the parents appreciate it," she said, nodding to the crowd to their left. He turned his head toward the way, seeing some of the looks he was getting, "The coat doesn't help," she whispered, referring to his trench coat. Castiel seemed confused through all of this as he looked down at his vessel. She was moving her bag off of the bench, setting it down, "You might want to sit before the cops come," she said, her voice mellow now. Castiel hesitated, though the girl did seem harmless. He didn't get a vibe from her – but then again, some of the things that the Winchesters and he had encountered looked innocent.

After a moment of her waiting for him to sit down and him just standing there, he ultimately seated himself onto the bench, leaving a space between the girl and him. He sat back, his body firm against the back of the seat. His eyes were on the sky now, unable to look at the park in front of him. He felt uneasy now at her statement.

"I haven't seen you before," she continued on, as if she couldn't see how uncomfortable Castiel was. He glanced over at her; she was focused on grabbing something out of her bag.

"I have just visited here," he answered, his voice ragged and low – like usual. He kept his tone clear though and level as much as he could. He wasn't quite used to conversing with humans.

"Hmm," she merely mumbled, sitting back with a more relaxed stance then Castiel had. "Well, welcome to Chicago!" she said, excitement showing throughout her voice. He tilted his head to the side. He had been to Chicago before; he couldn't understand why she was welcoming him now. She didn't notice his look before she continued on with her chatter. How did a human talk so much to a stranger? "I'm Di, by the way, if it is relevant." She was looking at him now. The wind ruffled past them and, still, Castiel didn't feel the cold. It bit at her cheeks though, he could tell, since they were a rosy red.

"I'm Castiel," he introduced, nodding his head slowly at her. He wasn't sure what to say in such a conversation. Whenever he did have a conversation, it was usually with Dean and about either the end of the world, Heaven, or anything else that seemed to be wrong with the world. He hoped that their conversation didn't end to that.

"Nice name," she complimented, smiling at him widely. He bobbed his head up and down slowly once more at her, not knowing what to say. He supposed that his 'people skills' were a tad 'rusty'.

"What brings you to Chicago?" she asked, popping some odd looking black thing in her mouth. He watched her, frowning unintentionally. She chewed, so he supposed it was food.

"No particular reason," answered Castiel, turning his blue eyes away from her when she looked at him again. She made a small 'hmph' sound under her breath as she swallowed the contents of her mouth.

"Always a nice reason to come to cities, hm?" she questioned, her smile, again, showing a small dimple in her cheek. She picked up the container that sat on her lap, that he just now noticed, and held it out to him, he noticed her fingernails were painted bright colors. They almost hurt his eyes to look at them. "Want one? I'm not going to eat them all myself," she said, laughing slowly. The package crinkled as she held it and Castiel stared at it as if it were a new substance to him. The package said, _Oreos,_ across the top in white letters.

He shook his head, "I don't eat those," he said, politely declining. She nodded her head in an understanding way before settling them back in her lap.

"My mom says I shouldn't eat them either, otherwise, they might go straight to my stomach," she said, patting her abdomen, which was hidden underneath her jacket. Castiel quirked an eyebrow.

"I... I don't understand."

She found his confusion funny since she laughed again, shaking her head, "She means, I'll get fat from eating too many cookies," she didn't interrogate him on why he didn't comprehend what she had said, which he was glad for. His bewilderment sometimes made others worried, like he was an alien, "Do you think it'll snow soon?" she asked, glancing up toward the Heavens. She changed the subject awfully fast, as if her weight was not a matter of concern.

He turned his gaze away from her frame and up at the blue sky above. "I don't know," he answered, honestly. He didn't see why it mattered. It was just another weather topic, always lining up the roads and yards with ice and cold flakes that humans seemed to get too much fun out of. He never quite understood it.

She compressed her lips together, as if that wasn't a good enough answer for her, but didn't dwell on it. "I like the snow, it's _beautiful_. Even in dingy Chicago," she said, shaking her head at the thought. She turned her green eyes on him. He cocked his head to the side, focusing his attention back on her, "Don't you think?" she asked, grinning again.

He paused for a second, contemplating his next answer. He didn't honestly care. It was his Father's work and he thought that everything about his Father's work was beautiful but lately, nothing about his Father sparked his interest anymore. He knew well enough from what he saw that something was amiss with God. But, instead, he answered with a, "Yes," to satisfy her.

It was getting late in the afternoon, he became aware of, since most of the kids that had been there weren't there anymore. He watched a few more trail off with their parents, still fascinated by the happiness that they – and the girl beside him – possessed. Maybe the world wasn't so lost after all, or maybe they just didn't lose the world yet.

Yelling behind them caused Castiel to rip away from his thoughts and turn his head to look beyond their bench. Di didn't seem fazed by it since she was stuffing another cookie in her mouth. A man and a woman stood on a lawn across the street, screaming at each other. It was an odd sight from the calmness that he had experienced in the park just a few minutes ago.

"Are you breaking up with me now?" the woman shouted, throwing his arms in the air.

The man didn't seem to like that question, "Would you like me too?" he hissed, his voice violent. Di's own voice seemed to break through, letting him fix his concentration on her.

"That's Dawn and Larry, they're always doing that," she said, twisting her upper half to look where he had been looking. He shifted, sitting back to where he was and frowned softly.

"So that's what Dean meant," he muttered to himself, a sort of emotion seeping through his voice now. Di arched her eyebrows.

"Dean?" she inquired, "Oh, _Dean,_" she said it like she knew who he was. "Did you two spilt ways?" she asked afterwards, "Is that why you seem sad?"

He seemed sad? Castiel didn't feel like it but then again, Castiel wasn't good at shifting through human emotions. He nodded his head though, obviously not fully getting what she was saying, "We had to part. He needed me too much with him, to help."

Di's eyes melted into a sea of sincerity to him, "Oh, I'm sorry. Break-ups are hard, I've been through plenty," she exhaled deeply, letting her shoulders slump. Castiel looked at her now, "As long as it was a mutual agreement?" she said but it came out as a question.

Castiel halted his conversation with her briefly to think, "I believe he seemed almost mad."

"Oh, well," she started out, "Did you love him?" she asked. She obviously didn't care about two men in love. Castiel knew what she was getting at now and his eyes immediately widen.

"Dean and I, no, we aren't like that," he said, saying it as calmly as he could. Di looked at him, perplexed.

"But you just said..."

"What Dean and I have is strictly business, nothing else. He is my friend, I suppose, but he is honestly too needy with me," spoke Castiel. He didn't know how to word his comments now. She had taken it completely out of context. She looked utterly baffled then before she nodded her head, grasping what he was saying at the moment.

"Oh, okay."

Castiel didn't know what to say after that little spiel they had. Di seemed to only be silent through pure embarrassment, he noticed, which is why – he was guessing – that her cheeks flushed more pink under her pale skin.

His first human encounter was truly interesting.

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